|That says 168.3.|
I couldn't get the light right and felt it was self-torture to keep trying.
But, here I am, ready to blather and make excuses. I am stress eating, I think. I feel so frigging *hungry* all the time! This cannot be true. I am battling old demons. The stress of the move, maybe, the stress of...I don't know. I know I have a lot going on, but I don't feel like anything is particularly challenging or out of control right now. I do know that I feel edgy, edgy, edgy. It is so CLAUSTROPHOBIC living out of boxes, living around boxes, thinking about packing constantly, etc.
I'm a totally claustrophobic person, anyway, and I've been feeling it lately. I have a new coworker who is very chatty in the morning and I feel like she is laying in wait for me at our little pod when I come in in the morning. I have noticed I am typically in a bad mood before I get to my desk each day, haha, which is highly unusual for me. I do not like to speak in the morning. :) Call me a bad employee, I don't give a isht. I need time to warm up.
We are up to our eyebrows in boxes at home, in a house that was already cramped and cluttered with too much stuff. I can barely breathe when I'm home...I cannot wait to get moved in to the new place. Soooon. Saturday AM bright and early, we are outta here!
I'm sorry, it's a terrible divorced mom thing to say, but sometimes I miss our days of 50/50 custody. Lots of times I feel like the old woman who lived in a shoe, with so many children she didn't know what to do. Having the kids home most of the time feels good and right, but there are times when I think about how I would cry out of loneliness when the kids were gone and I was home alone in that big, empty house.
A side note: as a formerly single woman with children, I *hated* to be told by friends that "Oh, what I wouldn't do for some time alone!" etc. I would never wittingly say this to a lonely single person. But as a not-single mother of three, I have to say, sometimes I would kill for some time alone. :) I just wouldn't tell any lonely single person that, as I know how awful it can feel. But still. I am having to draw on distant memories to relish those days of what am I going to do, I am soooooooo alone.
Now I always know what I'm going to do, I am going to be surrounded by lots of people in a crowded, box-laden home.
Saturday. Soon. We will be ready. But in the meantime, I eat. I'm eating well, lots of veggies and hard-boiled eggs and chicken breast, etc. But the Seahawks playoff game was a root beer float, Doritos, baked beans, potato salad and hot dog. A Klondike bar. Insatiable appetite these days.
I am a little person. I don't even have to eat much food to gain weight, it simply does not take a lot of fuel to run my engine. It is not fair. It is what it is.
I think I need to get back to blogging. I am forcing myself on that ufcking scale every week, but I am starting to avoid the blog for it's hatefulness of putting up my scale picture. I'm not running, I'm not cycling, I'm not losing weight, ugh, I feel like I am without a theme. Adrift.
But I was thinking about it this morning: first and foremost, this blog was about my gastric sleeve surgery. I am putting my head in the sand by not acknowledging that the challenges I face are part of that life-changing surgery. It wasn't a magic wand. It wasn't a quick fix or a cheat. I lost my weight and I still have to put in the work to be where I want to be. And I'm not.
I'm more than the weight loss surgery, but all these struggles are part of the experience. I wonder if I let myself feel like it's part of the journey and not my failure, if my mindset will change. As usual, this is just a very, very rough time of the year for me, and as usual, I wonder if moving away from Seattle to a sunnier climate would improve things.
Well, I am thinking, thinking, thinking. I think the new place will do marvelous things for the whole family. Space. Amenities. Comfort. Getting our belongings out of these friggin' boxes.